


Electricity is Really Just Organized Lightning

by kittenmittens



Category: Justice League & Justice League Unlimited (Cartoons)
Genre: M/M, Male Lactation, Mpreg, Wally mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2019-02-07 11:36:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12840327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenmittens/pseuds/kittenmittens
Summary: “Yeah, yeah, I know. Just a snack.” Wally waves down the waitress, taking a menu eagerly. “Hey, Mavis. I’ll take a Rueben, a grilled cheese, turkey club, three slices of apple pie, and a coffee.”Bats clears his throat.“Uh.Decafcoffee.”





	Electricity is Really Just Organized Lightning

It hits Wally like a ton of bricks. And Wally’s not really exaggerating when he thinks that, since he actually knows what having a whole brick wall collapse on you feels like. And it’s not fun! Neither is this. One millionth of a second after teleporting into the mystery lab to do some recon, Wally’s hit with the sensation of his middle getting blasted open with a laser gun. After that, he realizes he’s been teleported into some kind of giant, glass pod. And, just as fast as all that runs through his head, the whole tube shatters and Wally ends up curled up on the ground, arms tight around his stomach as he groans. So much for stealth.

Alarms start going off, and Wally realizes he’s gonna be in real trouble unless somebody gets to where he is soon. Something must’ve messed up the coordinates, because wherever he got teleported, it was way off. Luckily, Bats and GL get to him real fast, considering neither one of them has superspeed. Good thing, too, because Wally’s a little too busy holding in his guts to jump up and start running laps around baddies.

Bats crouches down next to him, putting a hand on his shoulder and shaking him. Sounds like his voice is a million miles away, and Wally doesn’t really hear what he says.

“I-I don’t feel so hot,” Wally mumbles. He starts to pull his arms away, then stops. There’s a whole bunch of buildup, like when you’re watching a slasher flick and you _know_ the killer’s gonna jump out any minute, but Wally tells himself it’s just like a band aid. He’s gotta rip it off quick. So he does. He pulls his arms away from his stomach before he can stop himself.

But he doesn’t see his guts spilling out, or a huge, gaping wound. Not even a big, nasty burn mark.

All he sees before he passes out is a perfectly circular scar.

 

*

  
  
 “A clone?” Wally swallows. “Guess Cadmus really is a one-trick-pony. I mean, if it were me, I woulda tried to clone a T-Rex first, but guess there’s no accounting for taste.”

“It wasn’t Cadmus.” Bats stands there, looming over Wally’s bed like a moody gargoyle. “It was a splinter cell made up of former Cadmus employees, determined to continue their research.”

“Still not clear on what happened, Bats.” There’s something about being in full costume, sitting in a hospital bed that makes it hard to relax. Wally’s gotta look into making his suit more breathable. “What’s that got to do with me, exactly?”

“When you’re transported somewhere, the teleportation technology locks on to your specific genetic signature. It helps to avoid accidents, since the computer registers each individual, and understands they need to be teleported to separate locations. Even twins have slightly different components making up their DNA.” He pauses. “A clone, on the other hand…”

Wally narrows his eyes, annoyed. “I’m not following.”

“This clone was your perfect match, Wally. Right down to the DNA. If Cadmus were teleport a clone, they can compensate by adjusting the Zeta beam’s program so the genetic lock doesn’t end up on the original. Say, someone on board the watchtower, who happened to have been cloned. We had no idea this clone existed, so we weren’t able to take the same precautions.” Bats steps forward, handing Wally a small stack of glossy pictures and what sorta looks like medical reports. “Because of that, the two of you were… _spliced.”_

Wally feels himself go pale. “W-Wait. Are you saying I’m made up of two different people now?” He slumps forward. “It’s like Jekyll and Hyde, if both of ‘em were studs.”

“No.” Well, Bats sure didn’t waste any time crushing Wally’s fantasy. He’s real good at that. “The clone was still an embryo.”

“Oh.” Wally frowns, looking down as Bats skims through the papers, finally settling on a grainy black and white picture. “Listen, Bats. I know I’m startin’ to sound like a broken record here, but I still can’t figure out what—“ 

“Look.” Bats points at the picture. It’s gotta be Wally’s skeleton, since he remembers getting X-rayed along with about a million other tests. “Do you see anything unusual?”

Wally squints at the X-ray, then points to a tiny smudge between his hipbones. “Yeah, actually. What is that?”

Bats doesn’t even blink. “The clone.”

Wally stares for a second, then gulps. “Ruh-roh.”

 

*

 

"Your surgery is scheduled for one week from now."

Wally still doesn't know why Bats gets to oversee this whole project, but he's got bigger things on his mind. "Yeah, uh... About that."

"Don't worry." Bats just keeps ticking away at the keyboard, like Wally doesn't have a completely wackadoo, straight-out-of-science-fiction problem.

"You know," Wally notes, "You must've been a secretary in a past life. For somebody without any superspeed, your average word-per-minute’s pretty impressive."

The only sign Bats heard him was a split second pause where the big guy stops moving his fingers. It was barely even noticeable, but what can Wally say? His powers have their perks. Actually, if it weren't for the "Brainthor" incident, Wally would say it's nothing _but_ perks. "It'll be here on the Watchtower, with the best physicians we could get access to. Your privacy is guaranteed."

"Yeah, okay. Cool, cool..." Wally swallows, then scratches his chin thoughtfully. "So... What would happen if I _didn't_ get the surgery?"

Bats really does freeze when he hears that. He stays that way for a second, both hands hovering over the keyboard. Then he lowers them, pushing against the table so his chair spins around, letting him look Wally right in the eye. "... You can't be serious."

"I mean, I might be. I’m not really sure,” Wally admits. "I just wanted to cover all my bases, I guess." He grins awkwardly. "I mean, I always wanted kids. Sure, didn't really picture it happening like this, but a few years ago, I also wouldn’t have seen myself beatin’ old Supes in a footrace. I’m trying to be open to new possibilities."

"This isn't a normal child," Bats insists. "It's a clone. We have no idea how unstable it is. Even if we assume you’d be able to... " For once, Bats seems like he's at a loss for words. Man, Wally sorta wishes he had a camera! "... _house_ it, there's no telling how long it would survive after coming to term.” Bats just keeps staring him down. Does this guy even know how to blink? “Never mind how lucky you are that it didn't rupture any of your organs when it was teleported, it would be an enormous strain on your body to support what's essentially. _.._ " He trails off, getting lost in thought.

Wally frowns, trying to picture what's going on in the big guy's head. Sure, half the people on the Watchtower wear masks, but Wally's never had to try half as hard to figure _them_ out. "Okay, I get it. You think this is probably gonna kill me. But you’re not sure, right? Can’t you look into it a little before you start making decisions for me?”

It takes Bats a minute to respond. "I’ll consider it.” He shakes his head, turning back towards the monitor and whatever homework he's doing. "But regardless of what any tests we do say, you should be absolutely certain about what you're choosing. This might permanently alter your body, or worse, _damage_ it. And who knows how long you'd be out of commission. You'd have to be fine with handing over the protection of Central City to some other Leaguer."

"Oh." Somehow, that hadn't really occurred to Wally. He guesses he's not sure what he was thinking this would be like. And, honestly? He still doesn't have much of a clue. Maybe this clone turns out to be evil, and starts killing people as soon as they cut it out of him, but Wally thinks he'd feel a whole lot better taking that chance. "I mean, it’d be somebody cool, right?”

Bats doesn't bother answering that question. "Get here early tomorrow. We have a lot more testing to do.”

 

*

 

“It’s stable, and growing at a normal rate. It also appears to be surprisingly healthy, considering its origins.”

Wally’s been waiting for Bats, or one of the Watchtower doctors, to say anything about… _anything_ since they started doing all these science experiments. It took pretty much the whole week, but he’s finally getting answers. And he guesses he’s getting them all at once.

“It’s not obstructing anything in your abdominal cavity right now, and when I projected growth over the next six months, no serious complications arose. Right now, we’re looking at what’s essentially an ectopic pregnancy.”

Wally blinks dumbly. “Egg… topic?”

“Ectopic,” Bats repeats. “It’s when an egg is fertilized, and later grows outside the uterus. It’s riskier than a regular pregnancy for obvious reasons, but manageable.”

Wally glances down at himself, hand sliding over his stomach almost before he can stop it. “So I could… “

“You could carry to term,” Bats finishes his thought. “If you wanted to.”

It’s weird, since it definitely should have happened way earlier, but all of a sudden, Wally feels like the wind got knocked out of him. “Wow.”

“You’d need hormone injections. There’s no telling what would happen to your body, and whether or not it would be permanent. You could very well end up on bed rest. And you’d be banned from any and all League business for at least two months after the delivery.”

It’s weird, sitting here on an examination table, Bats talking to him in full costume. Like Wally’s having one of those really weird dreams where Lex Luthor works in fast food. He feels like a patient, not like a friend.

But when Bats pipes up again, it’s a lot more personal sounding. “You should think hard about this. Assuming this child turns out to be perfectly normal, even after it’s born, you’re only twenty-five. It’s a big commitment. You should think about all your options. Before and _after_ the birth.”

Wally nods dumbly. “Gee, Bats. If I didn’t know better, I’d think this was a serious topic for you.”

Bats’ expression doesn’t even crack. “Maybe save the jokes for _after_ you’ve made your life-altering decision.”

Wally coughs, grinning weakly as he hunches into himself. “Fair point.”

 

*

 

Wally passes on the surgery. Instead of getting sliced and diced, he gets his first hormone injection, and another lecture from Bats.

“You’re positive you want to do this?” he asks.

“Y’know, I’m getting a little déjà vu,” Wally replies. “Almost feels like you asked me that already.”

“Wally.” Bats groans.

“Sorry.” Wally smiles guiltily, then holds out his arm. “Yeah, Bats. I’m sure.”

“Guess again.” Bats says, grabbing a syringe and motioning for Wally to pull down his pants.

 

*

 

“Bats?” Wally gawks when he opens the door. “Uh—I mean— _Bruce?”_ He frowns, then cranes his head around, trying to see if anybody else tagged along, but it looks like it’s just Bats.

“You can stop staring,” Bats says dryly.

“Well, gee. Sorry for being kinda star-struck.” Wally laughs. “It’s not every day I open the door and find a billionaire playboy waiting in the hall.” He frowns, scratching his chin as he thinks. “Hey, how come you’re here, anyway? Oh! Lemme guess: you’ve got some big, red-carpet affair comin’ up, and you wanted to get a few tips on charming the ladies from a real master.”

“Close, but no cigar.” Bats steps forward, then stops himself. Probably ‘cause he’s gotta remind himself he’s not automatically welcome just because he’s _the_ Bruce Wayne. “May I come in?”

“Sure, sure.” Wally nods, stepping aside. Bats kinda turns his nose up at the clothes and pizza boxes strewn everywhere, and it makes Wally realize the guy’s not used to being in a place where nobody picks up after you. “Sorry. I woulda straightened up a little if I knew you were coming.”

“It’s fine.” Bats frowns, glancing at the couch like he’s considering sitting on it, but decides against it. “Do you know why I’m here? And _no_ , it’s not for a crash course in womanizing.”

“Too bad,” Wally sighs. “I’m tellin’ you, man. You’re missing out!”

“This is serious.” Bats crosses his arms, glaring down at Wally. Great, now he feels like a kid about to get stuck in the naughty corner. Bats is real good at replicating that memory. “Do you remember what I said after your last time on the watchtower?”

“I dunno!” Wally glances away guiltily. “Yes! Maybe.” He clears his throat, fidgeting as he tries to figure out just what Bats is trying to get at. “You said a lotta stuff, okay? So what if I forgot a few things.”

“This isn’t about you forgetting,” Bats growls. “It’s about you doing something you should _know_ you shouldn’t right now.” He reaches into his coat pocket, pulling out a thing that might be a cell phone, pager, walky talky, or all three. After fiddling with it for a second, he holds it up to Wally’s eye level, showing him a video of Wally—well, _Flash_ —taking down a baddie in record time.

“Yup, I’m awesome.” Wally grins, making sure to enjoy the end of the video before straightening back up. “Is that your point? Because, I gotta say, Bats, it’s a good one.”

“This was taken last week.” Bats doesn’t sound like he’s messing around here. Okay, sure, he _never_ does, but this time, he’s really fed up.

Wally gulps. “Oh.”

“Are you insane?” Kneading at his forehead, which only makes it look more like he’s dealing with a toddler, Bats groans. “There are a multitude of things that aren’t safe for someone in your condition to be doing, and then there’s this. This is just… _idiotic!”_

“It wasn’t that big a deal!” Wally insists. “It was just Captain Cold! That guy’s a cupcake!” He shrugs again, trudging over to the couch and sinking down. Well, if he’s gonna get a lecture, he might as well get comfortable. “If I thought I was gonna get hurt, I wouldn’t have done it. But if I can help, I… If any of us can help, we _have_ to! That’s the whole reason we formed the League.”

“This is exactly what I was afraid of.” Wow. Why does Wally get the crazy idea that Bats isn’t even listening to him? “You can’t be left alone. You’re going to require constant supervision, aren’t you?”

Wally scoffs. “Well, I’m not a two-year-old, or a puppy, so I’m gonna say… no?”

“And yet, you almost got yourself killed,” Bats grumbles. “Look. I’ll send more Leaguers to Central City. Up the security here so you won’t feel the need to go running off into trouble every few seconds.”

“Aw, c’mon, Bats!” Wally flops backwards, staring up at the ceiling miserably. “I learned my lesson. No more being a hero until the squirt’s out.” He lifts his head just enough to look at Bats again. “Don’t you trust me?”

“No.” Huh. Didn’t even stop to think first, did he?

“So what are you gonna do? Lock me up? Hire a babysitter?” Wally slouches forward, glaring at Bats, like he’s challenging the big guy. “You know I’m not that easy to keep in one place, right? Or do you wanna ask parallel universe Bats what _he_ thinks?”

“I’m not going to keep you locked up. I can’t force you to do anything you don’t want to. But you _do_ need supervision.” Bats turns around, keeping his back to Wally for bit while he thinks. Then, after a good, long pause, he mumbles, “That’s why I’d like to propose another option.”

“Yeah?” Great. Wally can’t _wait_ to hear it.

“You move in with a fellow leaguer for the next eleven months. You stay with them until your recovery period is over. They keep an eye on you, and you get some company. You could choose anyone on the team, as long as they can stomach having you around.” Bats doesn’t even change his expression, other than lifting one eyebrow slightly, when he adds, “Maybe… _Fire,_ for example.”

“Oh.” Wally purses his lips, feeling himself blush. “I guess I could do that.”

“Let me know when you’ve made your choice, and I’ll reach out to them. The whole league’s already informed of your situation, so it shouldn’t be a problem.”

Wally frowns, thinking hard for a second, then ventures, “What about you?”

Bats narrows his eyes. “What do you mean?”

Wally grins. “What if I wanna stay at _your_ place?”

He _swears_ he sees Bats’ eye twitch. “Absolutely not.”

“Oh, come on!” Wally whines. “It was _your_ idea! Besides, as far as I know, you’re the only one in the league with an indoor pool, home theater, and _Batcave_. I’d be crazy _not_ to pick you.”

Bats growls under his breath. “… I’ll get back to you.”

 

*

 

"You won't have a curfew, but there will be no swimming, movies, or food preparation after ten P.M."

Wally nods absently, letting Bats' butler take his suitcase. "Thanks, Jeeves."

"His name is Alfred," Bats grumbles. "While you're staying here, I expect you to treat him with respect." He pauses. "That reminds me: you're welcome to go anywhere in the house, whenever you want. You're a guest here. But the Batcave is my property, and you will not enter it without being given explicit permission."

"Boy." Wally huffs, digging his pinky into his ear as he tries to get a look around. Sure is different, seeing everything in the daylight. The décor’s kinda tacky, but the halls look _way_ less creepy when it’s light out. Wally remembers his last time here pretty well, but he has no idea where he’s headed this time around. "You ever hear of the phrase 'total buzzkill'?"

"Very funny." Wally wonders if Bats has ever said that without being sarcastic.

“Hey, try smiling next time you say that!" Wally grins, then yelps when Bats just snatches his other bag away. "Hey!"

"You shouldn't do any heavy lifting." He turns, starts to walk away, then glances over his shoulder. "Come with me. I'll show you to your room."

“I gotta say, Bats,” Wally muses, “I never figured I’d have you as my own personal bellhop.”

"One of these days, you'll learn that a smart mouth doesn't get you everywhere." Bats leads the way down the main hall, through this huge, open sitting area, and up some stairs. From there, things start to look a little more homey and less like a gothic castle.

"Hey—hasn't steered me wrong yet!" Wally waits for Bats to start opening the door, then zips right past him, checking out the new digs for himself. "Whoa! Flat screen TV!" He zooms to the windows. "Killer view." And to the bathroom. "You kiddin' me? Shower _and_ a Jacuzzi tub?" He skids to a stop next to the bed. "And don't get me _started_ on the king size mattress!"

"It's a queen," Bats corrects. He sets the suitcase down by the dresser, then goes back to tensing every single muscle in his body. "I forgot to mention. The final, most important rule of this household: absolutely _no_ superspeed."

Wally groans. "Now you're just being mean."

"No." Bats narrows his eyes, clenching one of his hands into a fist. "I'm being practical."

"Well, you know what they say." Shrugging, Wally swings his arms back and forth, then throws himself onto the bed, laughing when he bounces a solid foot off the mattress. Sighing happily, he stares up at the ceiling for second, then turns his head to wink at Bats. "Rules were made to be broken."

 

*

 

Turns out, Bats doesn’t have much of a sense of humor, especially when it comes to house rules. Actually, scratch that. He doesn’t have much of a sense of humor, period. Wally really should’ve known better.

“You left the television on last night.”

Nodding slowly, Wally slumps forward, holding his face in his hands. “Y-Yup.”

“At top volume.”

Wally just nods his head again, even though doing that kinda makes him want to puke even more.

“There was a sink full of dishes left untouched, there’s trash all over every square inch of the den, and Alfred informed me that the model Tyrannosaurus is missing an arm. Do you know what that means?”

“Th-That he’s… ‘all right’ now?” Wally ventures.

“No.”

“Bats, can thi— _urp._ C-Can this wait a sec?” Swallowing, Wally lifts his head to squint up at the big guy miserably. “I’m not feeling too hot.”

“… You’re probably nauseas from the extra hormones.” Bats sighs, looking like he wishes he had a cape to swish dramatically. “I’ll make some tea. How do you feel about ginger?”

Wally shrugs. “It’s no chocolate mocha. Why?”

“It helps with queasiness,” Bats answers, pushing lightly on Wally’s shoulder to get him to sit up.

Wally watches dumbly as Bats walks out of the room. “It’s not like you to leave in the middle of a lecture.”

Bats stops and stands in the doorway. “Maybe I have a hard time watching the less fortunate suffer.”

Smirking, Wally settles in against the cushions. “And right now, I’m less fortunate.”

If Wally didn’t know better, he’d swear Bats just smirked back at him. “You said it, not me.”

Sighing, Wally slumps as Bats leaves the room. He still feels ready to hurl at any second, but somehow, he falls asleep anyway.

When he wakes up, sprawled across the couch on his side, there isn’t any tea.

But, somebody _did_ put a blanket over him.

 

*

 

For the first couple of weeks, Wally didn’t feel that different. He didn’t feel like a science experiment gone wrong, and he definitely didn’t feel pregnant.

Bats tells him he’s barely three months in, or he would be if this happened the normal way. It’s around that time when he starts to notice a few things. He pees a lot more, and his pecs sting on and off every once in a while.

And there’s a bump. Not a big one, but his stomach juts out around his navel. It’s weird; the way Bats and the watchtower docs described it, Wally almost figured the kid would be growing on his ribcage or something. But it’s about where it would be if he was a woman. At least, that’s what he figures. He’s not really an expert. Bats is obviously trying to turn him into one, leaving all these pregnancy books in his room, and around the den. Wally doesn’t really touch them, other than skimming through one once or twice, and Bats finally calls him on it.

“It might be a good idea to give this a look.” He tries to hand a book to Wally, but Wally just grimaces.

“Why?” He finally takes it out of Bats’ hands, but only so he can put it on the coffee table. “What do I need that for, when I’ve got you?”

“There are some things you can’t ask me,” Bats points out. “Or things you won’t _want_ to ask me.”

“Nah.” That’s something Wally can’t see happening. “I think you’d get weirded out way before I would.”

“ _Try me_ ,” Bats grumbles.

“Okay.” Getting to his feet, Wally starts to slowly roll his shirt up. “My chest has been hurting like crazy, plus there’s this really weird dark spot on one of my nip—“

Bats holds up a different book—seriously, where did he even pull that from?—and shoves it into Wally’s chest. “Page 71.”

Sighing, Wally just watches as the big guy stomps out of the room. “Ladies and Gentleman? I present to you, Gotham City’s biggest wet blanket.”

 

*

 

After the first few lectures, Bats seems to give up on most of his rules. And he hasn’t threatened to kick Wally out, so he’s feeling pretty brave. When he doesn’t see the big guy for a solid 24-hours, he thinks it’d be wrong _not_ to go looking for him, so he waits until Alfred’s totally clear of the back wing of the house, then slips behind the clock, stopping to stand at the top of the stone staircase.

Sure enough, Bats is hunched in front of his giant computer, typing like crazy. Wally has to wonder whether he can sneak up on the guy. Grinning, he zips down the stairs as fast _and_ as quiet as he can, ending up within a few inches of _Master Wayne_ ’s shoulder. Taking the shallowest, _quietest_ breath he can, he opens his mouth. “ _Boo—“_

“You’re not supposed to be here.” Okay, so Wally’s a master of speed, not stealth, but Bats could give him some credit.

“Whatcha up to?” Wally bends so he’s level with the guy, arms folded behind his back.

“You’re not leaving, are you?” Bats must be a fast learner, because he doesn’t even wait for Wally to answer. “The Riddler’s up to something, but it’s not his usual MO. He’s stealing.”

“Yeah? What?” Wally shifts his weight from one foot to the other, already kinda bored. “Poetry books? Oh, uh—those magic eye posters you have to stare at real hard til you see the picture?”

“More like thousands of dollars from various trust funds across the city,” Bats deadpans.

“Oh.” Wally frowns. “And he, uh… doesn’t usually do that?”

“No.” Bats lets out a sigh, and it hits Wally that the guy’s probably been awake for at least a few days straight. Not like it’s anything new, but it does make him feel pretty bad. Maybe he _should_ try a little harder to pick up after himself next time he reheats some nachos. “His crimes are almost always meant to show off his intellect. Anything getting stolen, or anyone getting hurt, is just a byproduct. It’s never his only goal.”

“Well, maybe somebody’s blackmailin’ him or something.” Wally shrugs, standing up and staring at the video footage Bats has on loop. “I mean, he’s pretty lowkey, right? If I were a big bad, I’d wanna keep the good guy’s focus on something else.”

Bats goes really stiff for a few seconds, and Wally thinks, at first, that he _really_ ticked him off. But when he finally talks again, he doesn’t sound mad at all. “That’s… not a bad theory. I’ll look into it.”

“Hey, happy to help.” Wally grins, squeezing Bats’ shoulder. The big guy swats him away right after. “Well, if you need me, I’ll be watching the late night ‘Saturday Gorefest’. They’re gonna air ‘Weekend at Shark Lagoon 3’ if you wanna come watch.”

Bats shakes his head, but kinda contradicts himself when he says, “We’ll see.”

 

*

 

At four months, Wally doesn’t get sick as much. His bump’s bigger—it pushes his shirt out enough to look like a starter beer belly—and his feet ache a lot for no reason. He swears he’s heard the same joke about ‘taking it a little _too_ easy’ from everybody in the lab, but he’s gotta sit down every once in a while! Feels like his ankles are gonna explode.

He just finished the late shift at work, and he’s heading back to Bats’ place when he hears the sirens. He follows the smoke and noise six blocks up, and finds three different fire trucks, two ambulances, and a whole apartment building gone up in flames. He doesn’t even stop to think; he just runs.

No costume, no thinking about it. He pulls his shirt up over his face like a mask and tears through the whole building in seconds, carrying the last three people out of the blaze . It takes a whole lot of willpower not to start a cyclone to put the flames out, too, or to not stay and make sure the people he saved are really okay. Secret identity and all that, _sure_ , but Bats is gonna blow a gasket if he finds out. It’s like he keeps saying: these days, Wally’s not the only one who could get hurt when he pulls these kinds of stunts. Lucky for the kid, a rescue mission through a fiery inferno’s just like a morning jog for the Flash.

At least he’s careful. Seriously, Bats would be proud. If he ever found out. Which he won’t, because Wally’s pretty sure he want too fast for cameras to get caught on film. Definitely. Well, he keeps telling himself that as he hails a taxi, takes it all the way to Wayne manor—right up until he opens the front door and sees Bats waiting up for him.

Wally gulps. “Lemme guess.” He inches out of grabbing range, just in case Bats tries to yank on his ear like an angry grandma. “I’m _so_ grounded.”

 

*

 

"Uh, Wally?"

Wally finally tears himself away from the microscope, turning to look back at Margie. "Yeah? What's up?"

"There's, uh... " She seems kinda stressed out, like she doesn't know where to start. "Somebody's here to, uh... "   After taking forever to spit it out, she just ends up saying, "You should really go outside."

Wally shrugs—his shift's almost over, anyway—then frowns at the weird look Rick gives him when he heads out. He's not sure what he thinks he'll see when he leaves the department, but it sure isn’t Bats standing in the driveway, leaning against his limo with his arms crossed.

"You lost, Bats?" Wally glances around, not totally sure this isn't a mirage. "The fancy side of town's _that_ way."

"You're quitting."

Wally blinks. "Come again?"

"I said," Bats growls, "you're quitting. Or you're taking a leave of absence, starting now."

Wally bristles, jerking away when Bats reaches out to try and grab his arm. "Since when?"

Bats shakes his head, but at least it looks like he’s calming down . "Look. Let's go for a drive. We'll talk about it."

Wally turns to glance back, and sees Margie in the doorway mouthing 'Bruce Wayne?' He makes a confused face and shrugs at her, then trudges around the back of the limo so he can climb in the other side. "Fine."

Bats gets in, sitting across from him. He's quiet for a few seconds as the driver starts to pull out of the driveway, then grumbles, "It's a bad idea for you to keep working, Wally. It was already hard enough to put together an excuse for Flash's absence that _you_ found believable."

"So?" Wally groans. "I thought the whole point of me working was to prove I'm _not_ The Flash. I mean, if me and Flash go missin' around the same time, doesn't that seem more suspicious?"

"It's not just that." Bats holds out a magazine.

Wally takes it, gawking. It's a picture of him and Bats, taken from pretty far away, and the headline's something about how Bruce Wayne isn't _only_ a ladies' man. "Whoa. Huh.” He stares at it for a few more seconds, then sets it down. “Hey, it could be worse. At least they didn't dig up your internet history." Bats narrows his eyes and Wally slumps. "... Sorry."

"Let me give you a hypothetical." Bats leans back again, and Wally has to wonder if the guy even knows how to blink. "Let's say word gets out about your condition. About _Wally West's_ condition. Records can be dug up. There's proof you're not a transexual man. People will want to know how it happened. We could say it was something you wanted from the start—a dangerous surgery you elected to—but we don't have any proof of that."

Wally gulps. "... Yeah? So?"

" _So,"_ Bats mutters, "picture a man with an unexplained, debilitating condition who has his condition made public. A man who happens to be out of commission for roughly the exact same amount of time as _The Flash_. Saying Flash is light-years away, on an important diplomatic mission, isn't the bulletproof excuse we need. Unless you can be in two places at the same time, people will start to suspect something."

"Hey, wait! I got it!" Wally grins, snapping his fingers. "We could have J'onn pretend to be me. Just for a couple interviews. You know, placate my fans, let 'em know I haven't abandoned them."

"First of all, he can't replicate your speed." Bats just keeps that same expression, sorta like a robot. "Second, he can't copy your voice, either. A Flash that _doesn’t_ talk? People would be suspicious. If none of this gets out—if Wally West takes a leave of absence without arousing suspicion—no one will have any reason to dig any deeper."

"Okay, okay! I get it." Wally exhales, leaning his cheek against his hand as he stares out the window. "But what am I gonna say? It's gonna be hard to get four months vacation if I can't tell them I've got a bun in the oven." He smirks. "Besides, I know the rules. Six weeks after the kid, and I get the boot. No more free rent at Wayne Manor. I _need_ to save up the rest of those paychecks so I can rent my apartment back."

Bats cocks one eyebrow. "Glad to see you've been paying attention, but I’ll compensate you for your losses."

Wally frowns again, slumping forward sadly. "Can't I wait one more week before I quit? Cory’s about to make a break through with this blood sample he’s been messing with for _weeks_ , and I know Margie’s gonna wanna talk about why I’m friends with a shady millionaire. I have to tell her I got to ride in a limo!"

There's a pause, but after that, Bats just says, "Fine."

Bats turns to look out the window, too, and Wally slouches, mumbling to himself. "Sure am gonna miss the free groceries." Until he started rooming with Bats, his food bills ate up half his paycheck every two weeks!

Bats doesn’t even turn his head. “I’ll find you some tissues.”

 

*

 

That next week, Wally hits the five month mark. And even with Margie demanding to know what Bruce Wayne is like in bed for the whole week, Wally still knows he’s gonna miss this place. Who knows how long he’s gonna be gone for? Bats came up with some fake doctor’s note about Wally needing to have his non-fatal illness treated in a four-month-long recovery plan, and Wally’s superiors totally bought it. Must’ve been pretty bulletproof, because Wally knows they would’ve fought tooth and nail to keep their best employee. Wally’s gonna have to get Bats to write up some adoption papers, too. How else is he gonna explain where the kid came from when he gets back?

“Maybe I can pretend I have a long lost sister,” Wally muses, one hand cupping his stomach while he shovels popcorn in his mouth. It just feels kinda right to have his hand there. Like he’s reminding himself it’s not some crazy dream he had, and there’s actually something in there. The other stuff that’s happened—the way his chest has been swelling up, and the fact that his butt _definitely_ got bigger—he’s not as cool with, and when he asked Bats whether he was gonna look like a chick forever, the big guy gave him a long lecture that basically came down to, “I don’t know.” But the bump? Wally kinda likes the bump. Or, as he’s been calling it, “Junior.”

“You’d have to involve your mother in that lie,” Bats points out, flipping through his book. He lets Wally watch movies on double speed, but he doesn’t seem to get how that makes them twice as fun. “Otherwise, she might accidentally out you.”

“Hey, she’d be cool with it!” Wally grins, fiddling with his ring. He hasn’t used it in forever, and even though Bats would lock him up in a tower somewhere if he tried to go superheroing before these last few months are up, he’s not gonna let the guy take it from him. “She knows I’m the Flash, she knows about _this—“_ He rolls up his shirt for emphasis. “And she even knows you and me are friends.”

“So she’ll believe anything,” Bats says.

Wally lights up. “Yeah!” And then it hits him that Bats just burned him. “Hey…”  Sighing, he flops back against the couch, glaring up at the ceiling. “Say whatever you want, but I _know_ you and me are pals.”

Bats doesn’t say anything. So, sure, he isn’t saying Wally’s right, but he _also_ isn’t saying he’s wrong.

 

*

 

When Wally first moved in, he broke almost every rule Bats set up in about 24 hours. But in his defense, they were all really dumb. Also, half of them were _definitely_ meant to be suggestions instead of actual rules. But the one rule he didn’t mess with was breaking the expensive stuff. Mostly because he’s so fast that, whenever he knocks something over, he can catch it and put it back where it was in the same second he bumped into it.

But that stunt’s getting harder and harder to pull off. For one, Wally’s center of gravity is messed up now. Junior’s really starting to _stick out_ , and half the time, Wally’s gut knocks over a vase or expensive piece of pottery before he even realizes it. He’s had a few close calls, and a few… _very_ close calls, but nothing’s shattered so far. But it’s kinda freaking him out! Wally hasn’t been “too slow” in almost five years, and he’s not about to start now. Maybe if he stopped using his superspeed, it’d be easier to not run into stuff, but Wally thinks he might as well get as much mileage out speeding as he can.  

Zipping into the kitchen, Wally feels himself bump lightly into the counter. “Hey, Bats. Thanks—“ Oh, wait. He ducks and grabs the tray of cookies he knocked over. And the cookies. He just piles them on a plate real fast. “Thanks for getting those. Kinda forgot I was makin’ them.”

Bats doesn’t even look up from his coffee. “Nice save.”

Wally laughs. “That’s _nothing_. You shoulda seen me catch that blood sample back in the lab! Best part is, no one even saw me!”

“I know,” Bats says. He starts swiping crumbs off the counter just as Wally reaches for a cookie, and their hands bump together. Bats stares for a second before pulling his hand back, like he got burned. He changes the topic fast, too, like he doesn’t want to think about what just happened.“It was difficult to catch, even on film.”

Wally nods. “Yeah.” Then, he jolts. “Whuh—Did you hack the CCPD _camera feed_?”

Bats nods. Wally guesses he shouldn’t expect the guy who runs around dressed like a giant bat to feel ashamed. “When I said I was going to keep an eye on you, I meant it.”

 

*

 

“I hate to sound like my mom after a night shift, but my ankles are _killing_ me.” Wally groans, sitting Indian style on the exam table and grabbing at his feet.

“Lie back.” Bats turns on the machine and motions for Wally to roll up his shirt.

“You sure you have a doctorate in… doctor stuff?” Wally wriggles, leaning back and exposing his stomach.

“You should know better than to ask me that—I’m a certified EMT.” Bats leans over him, squirting some weird goop on his belly and rubbing it in with a gloved hand. Wally’s not really sure why, but he feels his face get kinda red. It’s awkward, having _Batman_ as your OBGYN. Who’dve figured? “Try not to move around too much.”

Wally’s got to admit, he feels kinda lost. It’s only in the last month that Bats started trusting him to handle the hormone shots on his own, but he still leaves reminders all over the place so Wally doesn’t forget to take his vitamins.

Which is… probably fair, actually.

Holding his breath, he lets Bats probe him with that weird, plastic microphone-shaped thing, watching him fiddle with the dials on the screen. It’s not the first time in the last few months Wally’s had an ultrasound, but he figures this is less to make sure this whole process isn’t killing him, and more to make sure the kid’s okay.

“There.” Bats points at the screen, but Wally doesn’t really need the help. It definitely looks like a baby. Well, it _is_ one. And Wally knew that. It’s just that seeing it _kind of_ blows him away. He swallows, staring dumbly until Bats says something. “He looks perfectly healthy. Five fingers. Five toes. Good size for his age.”

“Wow.” Wally swallows, then shakes his head. “I mean, uh—cool!”

“Not that it’s any of my business, but you might want to do something to help you… feel more prepared.” Bats keeps rolling the wand around for a little longer before he finally shuts the machine off. “Maybe start thinking of names.”

“Oh, I already got that covered.” Wally grins, mopping at the goo with one sleeve rolled over his hand. “Wallace Jay West the second. Junior, for short.”

Bats hands him a few paper towels, saying in the most sarcastic voice he can muster, “Color me surprised.”

 

*

 

Wally’s having a dream. A really, _really_ good one. He’s had it before, sure, but lately it’s been happening almost every night. Worst thing about it is, he always wakes up before the best part!

In the dream, he’s in the back of his van, but he’s not alone. And not only is he not alone, he’s got the best possible company a guy could keep! There’re a couple Swedish supermodels, Lisa, from work, and Fire, too…  Wally really hit the jackpot this time!

Lisa says something about how she can’t believe he’s _the_ Flash, and that he’s her favorite member of the league—because secret identities don’t matter in dreams, especially not if they’re this awesome—and she puts her arms around his neck, nuzzling at him. Fire sits down next to them and suddenly, he’s not wearing his costume anymore, and she’s running her hands up and down his six pack, which is back, and his pecs, and those look fantastic and _manly._ And then Fire slowly moves her hand lower.

When she grabs him, he lets out a puff of air, furrowing his brow. Okay. She’s got… kind of manly hands, but hey, she is a big gal. That’s one of the things Wally likes about her! And then she grips a little harder and he moans, rutting against her palm before he can stop himself. He tells himself to take it easy, to hold out. He wants to make this good for the ladies— _all_ of them—too! But then one of the girls is behind him all of a sudden, her hand grabbing his chest, sinking into it, and it’s tender and it _stings_ , and the hand on his length keeps getting tighter, and just like always, he starts to wake up before he can get close to—

With a gasp, he jolts awake.

But this time, it’s different. He’s still hazy, and turned, and this time, he’s not alone. There’s a big, warm hand down the front of his pajamas, and another one pushing and kneading at his swollen chest. For a second, Wally’s too out of it, too _horny_ to really get what’s happening, but when it finally hits him, he mumbles a raspy, “ _Bats?”_

Bats doesn’t really answer, just ducks his head and drags his teeth across Wally’s shoulder.

Wally shudders. “N-Never pegged you for liking the whole… _nn… knocked up_ look!”

“Maybe I just like _you_ ,” Bats rumbles, and he squeezes Wally again, so hard he thinks he might pass back out. Bats just keeps grabbing at him, stroking him and running one callused thumb over his nipple, back and forth. Wally doesn’t like thinking about how his pecs have turned into _boobs—_ they’re not even big ones, and Wally’s not sure if that makes him happy or sad—but whatever Bats is doing with them right now, it might make having ‘em worth it.  

After a couple minutes (or maybe _hours_ , Wally honestly can’t tell anymore) of never ending attention, he feels something _hard_ and slick press against his butt and oh. _Oh_. Letting out a nervous laugh, Wally cranes his neck back, almost like he’s hoping Bats can decide _for him_ if this’ll be too much for Wally. But he thinks he already knows the answer. That dream has been replaying in his head constantly these days, and Wally can only take care of himself so many times before he loses his mind. And it never feels like enough, honestly. Right now, even though he’s sorta scared, and just a tiny bit grossed out, he feels like he _needs_ this. He’s desperate, and if this scratches the itch he’s had under his skin for the last three months…

He can’t say no to that.

Wriggling backwards against Bats, Wally grits his teeth, wincing and panting sharply when the big guy slowly pushes in. It takes _forever_ at first, and it hurts, and Wally’s halfway between panic and frustration, almost positive he wants to call it quits. But then it’s like Bats hits a switch somewhere inside him, and he flat out moans. He lets the big guy move him however he wants, wrapping an arm around Wally’s bulging stomach, holding him for leverage as he grinds against him, deeper and deeper, slowly pumping his hips in a rhythmic bucking. Wally feels more and more like he’s having an out-of-body experience the longer it goes on. He can’t think. He can barely breathe. All he wants is more of this. More buildup, more pleasure, more of this _feeling_ —something that only Bats can give him.

Just as when he thinks he might start crying, Bats digs his hand in so hard, tweaking his nipple and sending a jolt through Wally’s entire body. Wally _yelps,_ and it’s like he got pulled under by a tidal wave. He shakes for a solid minute, riding out the feeling until his body seems to give up, leaving him limp against the mattress. After some time passes, both of them struggling to catch their breath, Bats moves his arm, and Wally flushes when the big guy’s hand comes away feeling damp and sticky. Swallowing, he clumsily pushes himself off the mattress, bringing a couple fingers up to touch the pale stuff dripping down his chest. “I-Is that…”

“Milk.” Bats sits up slowly, then slides away from Wally, getting up off the bed.

Wally lets out a weak laugh. “That gross, huh?”

“No, that’s not…” Bats trails off, and stays quiet for once. He just stands there in the doorway, staring at Wally for way too long before muttering a quick, quiet, “Goodnight.”

He’s gone before Wally can blink.

 

*

 

He doesn’t see Bats for a couple days after that. If Wally didn’t know better, he’d think he scared the guy out of his own mansion. Even though _Bats_ was the one to make the first move. It’s late when Wally hears something down in the Bat Cave and decides to do a little espionage. He sneaks in through the clock-door and tiptoes down the first couple of steps. Sure enough, Bats is hunched over the control panel, tapping away at the keys and flashing lights. Smirking, Wally speeds down the stairs and stops just behind the guy’s big, ominous chair.

“Hey, Bats.”

“Mm.” Well, at least he knows Wally _exists._

Wally frowns, taking a few steps forward. He’s gotta think of _something_ to break the ice. It’s bad enough with Junior doing a conga inside him. Hey! That could work. “Feels like I swallowed half the Central City aquarium.” Wally pats his gut, then sticks it out. “Wanna feel?”

“No.”

Wally sighs. “Yeah, guess you’re not the touchy-feely type.”

“Nope.” Bats doesn’t stop typing, and he sure doesn’t turn around. He’s still in full bat regalia, too, even though it’s almost one in the morning.

“You okay?” Wally swallows, inching closer. “Didn’t think it was possible, but you actually seem gloomier than usual.”

“Why aren’t you in bed?” Bats growls.

Wally grimaces. “Yikes. _Cold_.” He rubs the back of his neck, looking away. It’s weird—he hasn’t even done anything wrong, but he still feels guilty. “Besides, I can’t sleep. Junior’s trying to open a karate dojo inside me.”

“Wally.” Bats’ voice is flat, and he isn’t even typing anymore. “I’m _busy.”_

“Oh. That’s cool.” Wally takes a step back. “I thought you might be done avoiding me like the plague. My bad.”

Bats lets out a deep sigh, pushing himself up and away from the desk, stomping over to Wally. He glares down at him, gritting his jaw and not saying anything. Okay, so this is the part where Bats usually lays into him. Says Wally’s just a kid and he needs to get a little more mature, or, at least, let Bats be Bats and leave him the hell alone. Instead, Bats puts his hand on his side, and when Wally looks up, the big guy’s expression is totally different.

He looks sad, and exhausted. Like something he saw out there really got to him.

It takes a minute for Wally to think of what to say. Well, he can always think of a bunch of things—unless he’s having trouble thinking of a good wisecrack—but this time, he thinks it might be a cool idea to think before he starts talking. “Listen, Bats… “ He starts to wrap his arms around the big guy, but his stomach gets in the way, so he has to settle for grabbing the big guy’s waist. “I know you don’t like talking about your feelings. Or… _having_ feelings. But if you ever change your mind about that, I’d be happy to listen. Seriously, I try to be _real_ in touch with my sensitive side! Chicks dig that.”

Bats puts a broad hand on Wally’s forehead, smoothing his bangs back. “I don’t think motivational speaking is your strong suit.” Sure, he _says_ that, and it’s hard to tell thanks to how dark it is in here, but Wally thinks Bats might be smiling! It’s sorta freaky, since Wally always thought he was allergic to being touched, but it’s a pretty good look for him.

“Yeah, but I’m pretty good at other stuff.” Wally grins up at Bats, then glances down when the big guy puts a hand on his middle. “And Grammy flash always said the best thing you can do for somebody is to be there for ‘em.”

Bats gets a weird look on his face for a second. Then, he shakes his head, bending so he can nuzzle into Wally’s shoulder. “You’re right.”

“You mind saying that again?” Wally squeezes Bats closer, not even caring that Junior’s _majorly_ invading the big guy’s space. “Say, into a tape recorder?”

Bats squeezes him back, so hard Wally lets out a little “oof.”

“Don’t push it.”

 

*

 

“What are you doing in here?” Bats stands in the doorway, glaring.

“Can’t blame a guy for getting curious, right?” Wally stretches out on the bed, waving his arms and legs like he’s making a snow angel. “I knew the one of the doors you always lock up had to be your room. And I _also_ knew you’d leave it unlocked one of these days. Only took you…” He rubs his belly, kinda like it’s one of those magic crystal balls that tell the future. “… Seven months? Well, four. You haven’t been stuck with me _that_ long.”

“I keep this door locked for a reason,” Bats growls. “I let you keep your privacy. I expected same courtesy from you.”

“Aw, c’mon, Bats!” Wally sits up, frowning. “I haven’t seen you in two weeks! You’re not _that_ sick of me, are ya?”

“That’s not what this is about.” Bats trudges over to Wally, looming above the bed. “This is my private space. I’m tired, and I’d like to be alone. I’d appreciate it if you went back to _your_ room.”

Sighing, Wally heaves himself off the bed, one hand under his stomach for balance. “Can I just do one thing before I go?”

Bats narrows his eyes suspiciously. “That depends on what it is.”

“Sit down for a sec.” Wally pats the mattress, grinning innocently.

Rolling his eyes, Bats does what he says. “There.”

Wally knows it’s stupid. He knows he’s not gonna like how this’ll probably end. But this just seems like a good idea! Maybe it’s all the hormone shots making him crazy, maybe he’s just like that on his own. But he wants to try to make Bats like him. Hell, Wally just wants to do something nice for Bats because _he_ likes him. So, after getting on his knees next to the bed, Wally peels open a few buttons on the big guy’s shirt and plants a light kiss on Bats’ stomach. Bruce makes a soft noise, but doesn’t push Wally away. And, after a few more kisses, he actually leans back, palms flat against the mattress. Wally curls an arm lightly around the small of the guy’s back, fumbling with his zipper one handed. Either he got to Bats crazy fast, or he really was just happy to see him, because he’s already raring to go.

Wally’s… never actually done this before. But he’s _watched_ people do it! And he knows what _he_ likes. Or, what he _thinks_ he’d like. That’s totally good enough. Either way, he starts slow, taking Bruce in his mouth and trying to purse his lips over his teeth. He breathes shakily through his nose, bracing a hand against Bats’ hip as he ducks his head lower, trying to fit more of the guy’s length. He starts bobbing his head slowly, then a little faster, breathing clumsily around Bats. The pose is weird, and Junior feels like he’s pulling Wally down by the stomach, _and_ his back’s starting to twinge, but he keeps it up anyway. Feels like Bruce’s whole body is tensing around him; he’s jerking and shaking just a tiny bit, all from the effort of holding himself back. But he can’t do it forever. By the time Wally gets Bats to the finish line, he’s shaking for real, and Wally can hear him letting out these sharp, rapid gasps. He grabs Wally’s hair roughly, tensing his fingers and trying to hold him right where he is. Wally does his best to stay put until Bats goes totally limp, slouching and spent.

Wally gets up slowly, lifting his head and reluctantly swallowing. He shudders and shakes his head. “I think I deserve some kudos for that. I mean, you know what they say about spitters.” Bats doesn’t answer him, and Wally’s not sure he wants to see the look on the big guy’s face. “I’ll just…” Not like he wants to say it out loud, but it feels less like he’s getting kicked out if he leaves on his own. He gets to his feet after a struggle, but just as he starts to turn, Bats grabs his wrist.

“Wait.”

“Yeah?” Wally spins around fast enough to give a normal person whiplash. “I mean, uh…. Yeah? Do you wanna give me a performance review? Cuz you’re gonna have to make it quick, Bats. My show’s on in ten.”

“… Come here.” He pulls Wally down, scooting backwards to make room for him.

Wally’s eyes get huge. “… Do you…. You want me to stay?”

Bats doesn’t say anything, probably because it’s too embarrassing for him to admit he’s got feelings. Grinning, Wally flops down next to the big guy, lying on his back and giving him some space. That lasts about five seconds—Wally’s never gonna fall asleep in that pose! He sprawls out, scooting up to Bats and resting his head against his chest, closing his eyes with a sigh.

There. That’s _way_ better.

 

*

 

“You sure this is okay?”

Bats glances down at him. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“I thought you wanted to keep me locked up in the Haunted Mansion until Junior’s… Y’know.” Wally clears his throat awkwardly. “Out.” He knows Bats is still worried about paparazzi, and he’s pretty bent on people not figuring out what’s really wrong with Wally. At least he’s bundled up enough to where you can’t really tell. Lucky for Bats, Wally can put on a jacket and coat and only look like he’s kinda fat.

“I figured you could use some fresh air,” Bats admits, moving his arm a little, almost like he wants to grab Wally’s shoulder, but then figures it’s a bad idea.

“You have _no_ idea.” Wally sighs, tilting his head back to stare up at the sky as they walk. “When you’re gone, the conversation between me and Alfred isn’t exactly _sparkling_. He’s gotta be the first guy I’ve ever met who’s not a fan of Harv Hickman. Uh, besides you.”

“Don’t get too excited. We’ll go to that diner you like, and walk a bit. Then it’s back home.”

“Hey.” Wally lights up as it hits him. “You just called it home! Does that mean you want me to move in for _real?”_ He cackles at the horrified look on Bats’ face. “I think that deserves some positive reinforcement.” Glancing around, he grins, then darts away for a split second, zooming back and holding out a single, red rose.

Bats gawks, then glances around in a panic, trying to make sure nobody saw that. “Watch it,” he growls. “I don’t have a problem with cutting the evening short.”

“What? Too much?” Wally shrugs. “It won Big Bertha over.”

“Barda,” Bats grumbles.

“Yeah, her.” Wally leads the way into the diner, scooting into his favorite booth.

Bats sits across from him. “Remember—“

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Just a snack.” Wally waves down the waitress, taking a menu eagerly. “Hey, Mavis. I’ll take a Rueben, a grilled cheese, turkey club, three slices of apple pie, and a coffee.”

Bats clears his throat.

“Uh. _Decaf_ coffee.”

Bats holds a hand up to stop Mavis from handing him a menu. “Just coffee for me. Black.”  As soon as she’s out of earshot, he hisses through his teeth at Wally, “You call _that_ a snack?”

“Yeah! As a matter of fact, I do!” Wally huffs, slouching and crossing his arms moodily. “You don’t know what it’s like to be me! I’m hungry all the time, and having a kid’s not really helping. Besides!” He grabs a french fry off another waitress’s tray as she passes, tossing it in his mouth. “Nobody’s bugged me about it before. Flash can’t be the only guy in Central City with a big appetite. I just started telling people I’m a competitive eater.”

Bats actually smiles at that! Well, he does the thing where the one side of his mouth curls up, like a smirk, but less mean looking. “Of course you did.”

They get through the rest of dinner with only one weird moment where Bats tries to wipe his face like he’s a baby. Other than that, the whole thing goes off without a hitch. Bats pays the bill, and they leave. No paparazzi, nobody staring—well, no more staring than they’d get over stuff like “Hey, is that Bruce Wayne?” or “That guy just ate three sandwiches in under a minute”. It’s nice.

“Hey, Bats?” Wally turns to look at the guy as they head towards the park.

“What?” It barely sounds like a question, more like he’s just saying something so Wally knows he can keep talking. Guess Bats is really starting to get him.

Wally takes a deep breath. “Thanks.”

“It was nothing. You don’t have any source of income right now, and besides, it’s barely a dent in the rest of your food budget.”

“No, I mean… “ Wally stops in his tracks, and Bats walks past him before catching himself and turning to look back. “Thanks for everything. For all the stuff you’ve been doing. And I promise I’m not gonna make things weird when I move out.”

“You don’t have to move out.” Bats says it almost as soon as Wally stops talking. “You can if that’s what you want, but I wouldn’t mind… “ He stops himself. “No. I’d _prefer_ it if you stayed. Or, like you said, if you moved in permanently.”

“Really?” Wally knows he should probably be worried about whether anybody heard that—they’re still not clear of the tabloids yet—but he doesn’t even care. “That’s so aweso— _wait.”_ He smirks teasingly. “This isn’t just ‘cuz you’re worried to leave me alone with a baby, is it?”

Bats smiles again. Man, twice in one night! Wally must be some kinda magician! “That might be part of it.”

Wally jogs forward to catch up with Bats, leaning against him lightly. “Tell you what: I’ll _definitely_ think about it. I mean, there’s gotta be a few things we can do to make the Bat Cave a little more homey.”

Bats snorts. “Not everything can be as charming as your carpeted van.”

“Hey!” Wally pouts. “Rule number one of moving in together: nobody disses the Flash Van. Hey, you think it’d fit in the garage? Maybe next to the Batmobile?”

Bats shakes his head, winding an arm around Wally’s waist. “Hopefully not.”

 

*

 

Wally slumps over Bats, breathing heavy and clutching his stomach as he tries to get his heart to slow down. He’s not sure he can even hear it _beating_ anymore.

Bats pats the side of his hip, grumbling, “We’re going to have to work on your speed problem.”

“What? Why?” Wally swallows, panting a few more times before climbing off the big guy’s lap. “If you got it, flaunt it!” He flops down next to Bats, curling up against his side.

“That couldn’t have lasted more than thirty seconds,” Bats says, giving Wally a judgmental look.

Wally shrugs guiltily. “Sorry. Sometimes you’re just movin’ way too _slow_ for me.”

Bats lets out this rumbling noise, kind of like an annoyed dog, but he doesn’t push it. Wally gets the feeling that Bats is okay with Wally using him like a glorified, uh… _toy_ to make up for how he kept ditching him.

Wally wiggles, turning onto his back, even though his belly makes it hard to breathe. He can’t stay like this for too long, otherwise he’ll probably suffocate, but sometimes he feels like he’s gotta stare up at the ceiling and think. “Hey, Bats?”

“What?” At least he doesn’t sound like he’s mad at Wally for fast-forwarding to the good part.

“I know you said he’s pretty normal, and he’s not gonna bust out of me alien style, but…” Wally gulps again, trying to keep his voice steady. “When Junior’s… _born_ , he’s not gonna… fall apart, or go crazy like those Ultimen guys, right?”

“I don’t know.” Great. Good ole Bats, always knows just what to say. “But I don’t think that’s likely. For one, they aged at a faster rate, so their genetic structure was unstable from the start. They were created for the solely for combat. … ‘ _Junior’_ was created for research purposes. And if he was cloned just to be studied, he was probably made to last.”

“Phew!” Wally grins. “Gotta tell you, Bats, that’s been weighing on me for a wh—“

“But you _should_ know, he might have a shorter lifespan.”

“Short? How short?” Wally clutches his stomach miserably, propping himself up. “L-Like, he’ll only live to be ten or something?”

“No! No.” Bats sits up, too, shaking his head. “Nothing like that. But he may lose ten or fifteen years from his overall lifespan.” Bats puts a hand lightly on Wally’s head, stroking his hair gently. “Other than that, he could be perfectly normal. But you have to remember, this is all guesswork. I’ve been doing plenty of research, and I’ve been privately forwarding the results of all the tests I’ve done on you to an expert in cloning. She’s been able to back me up on almost everything, but for the most part, we’ll have to wait and see.”

“But he’ll _probably_ be... normal?” Wally asks.

“Yes,” Bats says, and Wally thinks for a second before leaning against him.

“Wait.” He furrows his brow. “Me normal or _you_ normal?”

“Now _that_ , we definitely don’t know,” Bats admits. “Not unless you have a prenatal test for superspeed.”

 

*

 

“You gonna tell me where we’re going, or do you want me to guess?” Wally leans forward, messing with his seatbelt a little. It never feels comfortable anymore, no matter where he puts it. It’s either digging into his chest, which _hurts_ , or it rubs against his stomach and makes it itch like crazy.

Bats reaches out without even looking away from the road, pulling Wally’s seatbelt back into place. “I don’t suppose keeping quiet’s an option.”

“Oh, yeah? Well how ‘bout… _you_ keep quiet!” Wally slouches, drumming his fingers against the window a few hundred times a second. Huh. That wasn’t a great comeback.

“We’ll be there soon,” Bats says. “I already told you—it’s nothing serious, so just try to relax.”

“You ever notice how hard it is to relax when somebody tells you to ‘try to relax?’” Wally frowns when Bats gives him a clueless look. “Well, it is.” He rolls his eyes, resting his cheek in his hand as he watches the scenery go by for a while. It doesn’t hit him until they’re practically pulling in the driveway, but he finally figures out where they’re going. “Metro Tower? Seriously?” Wally glances around, sinking as low as he can. “You sure coming here in our _not-super_ identities is a good call?”

“It’ll be fine.” Bats shuts off the engine and steps out of the car, coming around to open Wally’s door. Bats really likes those cars with the low seats, and Wally’s been having trouble getting out on his own lately. “The only people here at this hour are the security staff. I already know their rounds; we won’t run in to any of them.”

“Gee, Bats.” Wally grabs onto the guy’s hand, pulling himself up with a grunt. “If I didn’t know you better, I’d think you were planning something.”

“Me? Never.” Bats puts an arm on the small of Wally’s back, walking with him to the door. A couple scans of his ID, and they’re in the main lobby. Jamming his hands in his pockets, Wally glances around, trying to act like he’s never been here before. Anybody here probably already knows his identity, sure, but… better safe than sorry! Wally doesn’t know which super villains are gonna show up and attack, or whether anybody’s hacked the security cameras. He tries to keep his face low as he follows Bats to the elevator, ducking inside as he presses the button for cafeteria floor.

“Okay, we’re here. Now what?” Wally steps out of the elevator as soon as the door opens, glancing around the dark, empty floor. He’s just thinking about how he’s not sure that he’s been here more than a couple times—seriously, how weird is that? He goes to space more than he comes here!—when all the lights turn on at once. Wally yelps, then trips and falls backwards into Bats as half the League jumps out from behind columns and cafeteria tables.

“SURPRISE!”

Now that the lights are on, Wally can see all the decorations. Everything’s yellow and red, there are balloons everywhere, and a giant, shiny banner that just says, “Congratulations.”  Wally can see Shayera, Diana, J’onn, GL, Supes, Fire, Ralph… plus a bunch of other people. Even _Orion_ is sulking in the corner. “You guys, this is…” He grabs his face, gawking. “This is _nuts!_ What happened? Did the league save the world while I wasn’t paying attention?”

Diana gives him a bemused smile. “No, Wally. It’s for you.”

Huh. Wally guesses that means the color combo makes a lot more sense. He glances back at Bats, grinning in amusement. This is crazy! There’s no way Bats planned this, sure, but he let it happen, which is still a pretty big deal. Wally can’t really decide how he feels, though. Is he bummed about how this is probably a _baby shower_ , or just stoked to see everybody again? Aw, who is he kidding—it’s totally the second thing. He zips over to Shayera, laughing at how she jumps.

“I didn’t think you’d still be able to move like that,” she admits, grabbing his shoulder lightly.

“You’re not the only one.” Wally snorts. “Bats starts grinding his teeth every time I break the sound barrier.”

“What, doesn’t he know any better?” Shayera smirks. “Every mother-to-be does that.”

“Yeah.” Wally nods, then frowns when it hits him. “Hey...” He hunches his shoulders grumpily. “Who said anything about bein’ a _mom_? I’m still a guy!”

Shayera cocks an eyebrow, and she’s still got that super smug look on her face. “So?”

“So—“ Wally blushes. “Guys aren’t moms! That’s just how it works.”

Shayera pats his stomach condescendingly. “I may be an alien, but I’m pretty what’s happened to you isn’t how _any_ of this works.”

Diana makes her way over to him, offering a small, wrapped present. “On Themyscira, every birth is a momentous and sacred event, celebrated by the whole island.” She shrugs weakly. “I guess this is your version of that.”

“Pretty much,” Wally confirms, taking the package from her.

Supes puts a hand on the shoulder Shayera isn’t touching, looking uncomfortable, but just as nice as always. “I know this whole situation’s been… a rough one, but we wanted to show you that we’re happy for you. Not just because you persevered, but because… “ He laughs, jerking his hand away when he realizes Bats is giving him the glare of the century. “Well, this’ll be the first kid born to any of the members since we formed the League. Plus, I’m pretty sure you’re the first _man_ to have this kind of experience. On Earth, anyway.”

Wally grins. “Well, there are a lotta planets out there.” He looks around again, then lights up, squeezing between Diana and Bats so he can get over to the table with all the food on it. “This is the most cake I’ve ever seen in my life!”

Bats picks up the pace a tiny bit, just to catch up with him. “I wanted to be sure there’d be enough for everyone, considering you’re involved.”

“Figures you’d go straight for the food,” GL notes, leaning against the table as Wally starts piling things on his plate.

“Hey! You can’t tease me, I’m…” Wally pauses to shove a few forkfuls in his mouth, swallowing. “I’m eatin’ for… How’s that saying go? Eating for doubles?”

“Eating for two,” Bats corrects.

Wally nods. “Yeah, that.”

“I can’t believe you’re about to be a moth… _parent_ ,” Diana admits. “You’re just a child yourself.”

“Maybe where you come from.” Wally shovels a few scoops of ice cream—there are _ten_ different flavors-- and then goes nuts with the toppings! Bats really went all out with the catering. “I’m twenty-five! I can rent a car. That’s as grown up as it _gets_.”

“I believe I understand how Diana feels,” J’onn says. “To us, twenty five years feels like the blink of an eye.” He reaches for the Choco cookies. “But I wish you the best of luck in your coming journey.”

“I’ll be there to keep an eye on him,” Bats says. Everybody goes quiet for a second, looking at him in confusion, and Wally remembers that none of them really know he and Bats are… _kind of_ a thing. He wasn’t gonna bring it up, mostly cuz he thought Bats wouldn’t like the team knowing. When Bats says _that_ , it feels totally out of left field.

“I mean, you _all_ will… “ Wally glances around hopefully, not really sure if he’s trying to distract everyone or not. Doesn’t really matter—even if half the people here are from another planet, Wally could use all the kid advice he can get. “Right? Y’know what they say: it takes a village. Or a League.”  

Shayera grabs him and pulls him close. “Sure.”

After that, the party feels like it goes on forever, but Wally wouldn’t have it any other way. It’s been so long since he’s seen everybody, he can’t talk to any one person too much, and even though everybody keeps rubbing his belly and asking him about baby stuff—which does make him stress out, a _little_ , because he hasn’t been giving it _nearly_ as much thought as he should—it’s pretty great.

Mostly.

After who knows how long, Wally finally sneaks off, darting into the empty hall by the bathrooms and leaning against the wall with a sigh.

“That bad, huh?”

“ _Shayera!”_ Wally jumps, then groans, slouching as he tries to get his heart to settle down. “You been takin’ stealth lessons from Bats or what?”

“Sorry.” She leans against the wall next to him, staring ahead, like she’s deep in thought, before turning to look up at him. “Guess I’m just not the partying type. Although, it’s hard for me to think of this as a party. On Thanagar, it isn’t a proper gathering until someone’s been punched clean across the room.”

Wally chuckles. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

“What about you?” Wally watches her wings shift behind her, and he realizes she’s probably just standing like this for his sake, not because it’s all that comfortable. “Normally you’re the life of the party. I never pictured _you_ getting sick of the limelight.”

“I’m not!” Wally says defensively. “I just… You know.” He scratches the back of his head, looking away uncomfortably. “I kinda figured that, the next time I’d be with the League, all this baby stuff’d be over and I’d be back to normal.” He swallows, staring bleakly at the floor. “Havin’ all of you here makes it kinda hard to pretend nothing’s changed. What if I get back here after I have the kid, and all anybody sees when they look at me is…” A freak? A _mom?_ Wally’s not sure if he means both, or neither, but either way… “It’s sort of a _bummer.”_

“Wally…” Shayera puts her hand on his shoulder again, squeezing gently. “We know you better than that. You’re your own person, no matter what happens. And we’re proud of you. For going through with this, for becoming a parent…” She smirks. “For putting up with Bruce for five months…”

Wally perks up. “Hey, I deserve a _trophy_ for that one.”

“My point is,” Shayera goes on, “It’s not the end of the world. And we’re be happy to have you on the League, because you’re a skilled fighter, and because you’re our friend. None of that’s changed because you’re having a baby.”

“Yeah, I know…” Wally shakes his head, but does give Shayera a smile. “Thanks, Shayera.” He pauses, then groans. “I _am_ gonna miss my legions of fangirls, though.”

Shayera cocks an eyebrow. “Legions? I didn’t know you had _any_.”

Wally narrows his eyes. “Excuse me?”

“Nothing.” Shayera grabs him by the wrist, tugging him along after her. “Come on, _Flash_. You’ve got presents to open.”

 

*

 

“Okay, it says the screw thingy goes in the headboard… shaped… piece next.”

Bats growls under his breath. “You’re going to have to be more specific.”

Wally huffs, staring at the dumb instructions while he taps his foot at a mile a minute. “Will you just let me do it?”

“Absolutely not.” Bruce groans, straightening up and snatching the booklet out of Wally’s hand. “Your due date’s in less than a week. You could go into what’s essentially labor at any moment. So, _no_ , you are not building a crib. We put this off too long already.” He sets the screwdriver down and wipes at his forehead. “Go sit down. I’ll handle this.”

Wally glowers, then gasps dramatically, pointing out the doorway. “Bats! It’s that penguin dude!”

The instant Bats looks up, Wally grabs one of the screwdrivers off the ground and puts the whole crib together in about five seconds. Sure, he messed up and had to start over, but that’s still a personal best, especially since he feels like _Shamu_ ’s way faster cousin. Bats turns around, sees what Wally did, and glares.

“What?” Wally fiddles with the screwdriver innocently. “Toldja you should’ve let me do it.”

Bats doesn’t seem as proud of Wally as Wally is. “Out. _Now.”_

*

 

Okay, sure, Wally knew it wasn’t a good idea to hide out in the javelin, but he didn’t think it was that _bad_ of an idea, either. He woke up feeling nasty, and his stomach was cramping on and off, and he just wanted to chill out before Bats completely lost his mind over something that was probably nothing! It might not have been Junior making a jailbreak—for all Wally knew, it could’ve been gas!

Wally knows it’s not gas now, but like he said—at the time, it seemed like a good idea. He didn’t think Bats would leave Wayne manor, and he didn’t think he’d take a javelin if he did. Also, Wally _especially_ didn’t think he’d pick this one.

“Just my luck.” Wally winces, clutching his stomach and slumping against the wall of the cargo hold. Every once in a while, the whole ship veers to one side, and Wally feels that much closer to losing his lunch. “ _Hnn…_ This is bad. Ohhh, yeah. Definitely… _bad!”_ What can he even do? He’d call out for Bats, and tell him to turn this thing around, but it sounds like they’re under fire, and Wally has no idea how important this mission is! And sure, it hurts like crazy, but maybe it’s not as bad as it feels! Maybe Wally can just… wait it out!

As soon as he thinks that, it’s like the universe—or maybe Junior—starts messing with him. The pain flat out doubles, and Wally bends forward, trying and failing to hold in something between a yelp and a scream. He feels sweat pouring off his face as he struggles to hold himself up off the floor, not even registering the sound of footsteps until it’s too late.

_”Wally!”_

Wally swallows, blinking dizzily. God, he can’t even move his head to look up. “H-Hey, Bats. Great timing!”

“Wally…” Bats crouches down next to him, forcing him to sit up. “Wally, what are you _doing_ here?”

“Regretting my life choices,” Wally pants, clinging to Bats as soon as he gets close enough. “O-Or… dying… Not really sure.”

“Wally _focus.”_ Bats leans him against the wall again, holding him there until he seems steady. “Why did you get inside the javelin? Why didn’t you say something sooner?” Another shot hits them and the whole javelin shudders.

“I dunno!” Wally grits his teeth, moaning as another wave of pain rushes through him. He clutches at his stomach, feeling like he’s trying to keep his guts from falling out. “I w-was hurting, but I didn’t want you to ff… _freak out_ , so I hid in here t-til I could make sure the kid was r-really… _coming_.” He pants a couple times, eyes drifting shut as his head rolls back. “Didn’t think you’d be… t-taking it for a joy ride.”

“This is bad.” Bats sounds as straight-laced as ever, but the way he clenches his jaw tells Wally he’s panicking. “Under normal circumstances, I might be able to perform the operation.” He pauses. “And by normal, I mean something a little less chaotic than flying over a warzone.” Kneading at his forehead, he mutters to himself and straightens up. “I don’t have anything I need here. The first aid kit doesn’t have the right equipment, and even if it did, there’s the risk of contamination, the lack of sterile surfaces and tools… “ Bats trails off, then presses his communicator. “I need backup.” Brushing the sweaty bangs off of Wally’s forehead, he mutters, “We’ll be landing soon. Try not to worry.” He stands up, and Wally might be losing it from the pain, but he swears he sees the guy’s hands shaking. “I’ll figure something out.”

“I just gotta say one thing,” Wally gulps, fighting not to throw up. “My vote’s for the plan that keeps all the stuff that’s supposed to be inside me… _inside me.”_

Bats nods stiffly before he disappears into the cockpit.

The Javelin stops moving, and practically the second it goes still, Bats comes running back into the cargo hold. He kneels next to Wally, piling a few duffel bags and blankets behind him, doing his best to make him comfortable. After he’s satisfied, the big guy starts stripping off his gloves, grabbing Wally’s wrist to feel for his pulse.

“Think we should t-turn around?” Wally manages to grin, somehow. “I can p-probably hold it.”  Maybe he’s going completely nuts, or maybe even a situation as bad as this one feels less terrifying if Wally can just crack a few jokes.

“The comedy routine can wait, Wally,” Bats snaps. “You need to save your strength. Just focus on breathing.”

Suddenly, like a zombie rising out of the grave, a half-transparent J’onn floats up through the floor. “I came as soon as I—Wally!“ He darts over to Wally, crouching on floor the across from Bats. “What is he doing here?”

"He tried to use the javelin for a relaxing getaway," Bats growls. "Obviously, that was a bad idea. He's in labor, or whatever the equivalent would be without the proper reproductive organs." He pulls the first aid kit closer, tugging on some medical gloves as he barks orders. "I need you to draw the fire away from us, or at least signal someone else to cover the area. This procedure is going to require my full attention."

Wally watches J'onn's face go from green to _pale_ green. "Surely you're not going to—"

"Perform surgery?" Bats has the blankest expression Wally's ever seen when he lifts his head to look up at J'onn. It's like he knows he can't get emotional, so he's started treating this like a research paper instead of a life-or-death game of operation. "We don't exactly have a lot of options. If we leave him how he is now, by the time we find a hospital, the toll on his body might be too great. The muscles could rupture, something might hemorrhage—the circumstances could injure the baby, or _worse..."_ Now he's starting to sound worried for real, and Wally never thought Bats losing his cool could make him feel this scared. "If I perform a caesarian now, there's a much higher chance of survival. It's the best shot we have, since he can't exactly give birth naturally." As soon as he says that, he freezes, then jerks his head back up. "J'onn. Give me your arm."

J'onn doesn't even question Bats, he just does it, leaving Wally confused _and_ freaked out. "Uh, guys? Since I’m the one about to get carved open like a Thanksgiving turkey, I'd _really_ like to know what's going on."

"The blood samples you gave me once. They seemed like they might be capable of replicating human DNA." Bats fumbles through the first aid kid, pulling out a syringe and carefully slipping the needle under J'onn's skin. "Here on Earth, we have something called stem cells. They can re-grow missing body parts under the right conditions. If my theory's correct..." He holds the blood up to the light, then grabs Wally's limp wrist, turning his arm around. "Your blood could serve as some sort of _super_ stem cell. It could fill in the genetic gaps instantly. Maybe even give you body parts you weren't born with, as long as you’re experiencing great enough trauma, they're the ones you _need_ to have in order to survive." Bats freezes, like he’s fighting with himself, trying to decide what to do. “I never got around to testing it. It could have adverse affects—your body might reject the transfusion, it may not take effect in time, or it could completely destabilize your condition.” The next time he pauses, it seems like it lasts forever. “But it’s better than the other option.”

Wally laughs weakly. "Guess you were planning on giving some lab rats gills, not making me grow a va— _OW!"_ He hisses in pain as Bats jabs him. "Aren't I hurting enough already?" In fact, he definitely is, because it's only just now hitting him what Bats might've done to him. "This is gonna be temporary, right?" He glances at Bats, then at J'onn. "And... I'm not gonna turn into a blob, either.... Am I?"

"I would say that's a good sign," J'onn notes. "You're already sounding more like yourself."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Bats grumbles. "J'onn. Keep watch. If this doesn't work, we'll need plenty of cover before takeoff. Notify the others, tell them what's going on, and to try and keep the action away from the ship."

"Understood." J'onn nods, phasing back through the floor, and as soon as he does, Wally lets out a choking noise.

"What?" Bats bristles, leaning over Wally again. "What happened?"

"Y-You know that feeling you get, on a roller coaster, when you go over a big hill and your stomach drops?" Wally swallows. "I just got that. Only... in my _pants_." It's not just that, either. There's this feeling between his legs, like there's way too much _sensation_ where there wasn't anything before, and then, on top of that, another huge rush of pain.

"Here." Bats starts working his sweatpants down, and Wally reluctantly helps, wriggling free of his boxers, too. Guess his shame died somewhere over the Indian ocean, between almost passing out from contractions. Bats pries his legs apart, staring for just long enough to make it as uncomfortable as possible. "… The good news is, it worked."

Wally grimaces. "Y-You and me have _very_ different definitions of 'good'."

Bats ignores him, patting his knee lightly. "The bad news is, you've still got a long way to go."

 

*

 

Bats is right. It's almost like time stops working for Wally after that. Maybe it _has_ been a really long time since Wally felt good enough to talk, maybe that was only a short while ago. But Wally knows he can’t tell how long it’s been anymore because of just how bad it hurts; because of how much he wants it all to just _end_. Either way, he can barely think by the time Bats mutters in his ear to start pushing.

Okay, Bats. That's great! But how's it supposed to _work?_ Wally's had these parts for a few hours, _max_ —he doesn't know what 'pushing' feels like! He can’t feel much of anything beyond “it really, really hurts”. But Wally does his best, tensing up every muscle in his stomach as the ache builds, forcing himself to sit up and hunch forward.

"You're doing great," Bats says, and the part of Wally that isn't regretting _all_ of this can't help but find it pretty cool that Bruce Wayne's this prepared to deliver a baby. "Keep going."

His breath comes out in ragged gasps, and he groans, arms starting to shake as he holds himself up. The pain builds, and he keeps his body tensed like that until he's almost ready to faint, then clenches some more and pushes. After that, he takes a few seconds to pant before he does it again. And again. Feels like this is his life now. Pain, worse pain, _pushing_ , and the precious, tiny seconds between all that when he doesn't hurt _quite_ as bad.

It barely even registers when Bats says he sees the head. Wally almost forgot this was about having a kid, and not some crazy hell he ended up in. His muscles start to cramp up again and Wally gasps, waiting, waiting, then clenching himself into a tight ball as he tries to push again. It hurts. It hurts worse than any of the other times so far, but Wally just wants it to be _over_. More than anything, he wants to get to the point where he can collapse, and the pain finally fades away, and if it's just him falling asleep after all this is over, or if it involves him _dying_ , Wally's fine with that. Anything’s fine with him as long as it just stops hurting.

Bats says this is the last one, and Wally hopes more than anything that he's right, cuz if he's not, Wally might just give up. Sure, he can't be dying, because Bats isn't throwing a fit anymore, but it feels like he is. His muscles tighten up like someone's clenching a giant fist inside him, and Wally groans, feet scrabbling against the cold floor as he gives it everything he's got. He tenses up until sweat dribbles down his nose, before he forces himself to bear down with one last, desperate push.

It's over. It _has_ to be. Wally felt it—he felt the kid _slip out_. And as much as that makes him want to throw up, Wally's just glad he can finally fall back against the floor and get some peace and quiet.

"He seems healthy, Wally," Bats says, and it sounds like he's talking from inside a TV. "Congratulations."

Wally doesn't really answer; he's a little too busy fainting.

 

*

 

He wakes up feeling like he’s caught under a semi truck. “Uuugh.” Groaning, he reluctantly turns his head to one side. “A-Am I dead? I feel like I’m dead.”

“You’re not, but you made a good effort.” Bats is sitting in a chair by his bed, looking half-dead himself. A little quieter, he adds, “You gave us all a big scare.”

Swallowing, Wally looks around. He’s in a bed, in what looks like a hospital room. There’s an IV in his arm, and his middle hurts worse than anything, and as soon as he thinks that, it all comes flooding back.

“Junior!” Wally lurches up, pawing at his stomach. “He’s—Is he—?”

“He’s fine.” Bats pushes him back down against the pillows. “But you need to rest. You pushed yourself too hard.”

Wally furrows his brow, but lets Bats push him around anyway. Mostly because he _does_ trust the guy, but partly because his bones feel like jello. “Can I at least see him?”

Bats watches Wally for a second, then nods. “Sure.” He pulls this weird, tiny plastic cart over to the bed, then lifts the wimpiest bundle of blankets Wally’s ever seen out of it. Then, after easing back down in his chair, he holds the baby out for Wally to take.

It’s almost like his arms move on their own. Like Wally isn’t really telling them to do anything, but they reach out and take the kid anyway. Next thing he knows, he’s got the little guy resting against his chest, staring at him dumbly. “Man, he looks _crabby_. You sure this is the right kid?”

Bats gives his signature half-smile. “Pretty sure.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Wally examines his thick eyebrows, squinty brown eyes, and the shock of red-orange hair. “The good looks are a dead giveaway.”

Bats leans back, still looking at Wally like he’s watching some kind of nature documentary. “Have you thought about what you’re going to call him?”

“Uh, Bats?” Wally hears the little guy start to wiggle and make these sad gurgling sounds, so he gives him a gentle squeeze. “I wasn’t kidding about the ‘Junior’ thing.”

Narrowing his eyes, Bats groans and starts pinching at the bridge of his nose. Poor guy must have a killer headache. “Of course you weren’t.”

 

*

 

"Well? Whaddya think?" Wally zooms over to Bats and does a couple spins. "Ah-ha! Your awed silence says a thousand words."

"Glad you like it," Bats says, in that voice that mostly means he doesn't really care that Wally likes it, he's just glad he's wearing it. "The padding and new material is extra durable, but it can still compact enough to fit in your ring."

"I gotta say, you really captured the old me." Wally grins, posing in front of the mirror. Flat pecs, awesome six pack… it’s all there! "Yep. I look great! You'd never guess I was hiding a mom-bod under here."

Wally doesn't even have to look-- he can _hear_ the big guy smirking. "Guess that'll be our secret."

Wally smirks right back, then frowns. "Hey, Bats?"

Bats just starts buckling his utility belt. "What?"

"You don't think they're gonna be mad at me, right?" He fidgets nervously. "I was gone so long. Maybe Central City went and got a new favorite hero."

"I doubt it." Bats gets up and crosses over to Wally, tugging his mask back so his head's exposed. "You don't give them enough credit. If you've taught them anything, then they'll be understanding. In fact, they'll just be glad to have you back." Bats tousles his hair and Wally winces, batting his hand away. "I know I am."

"Y'know something else?" Wally grabs Bats with superpeed quickness, wrapping his arms around the big guy's waist and burying his face in that strong chest. "I always figured you were a softie. Just... way, way... _waaaaaaaaay_ deep down." He grins. "Feels good to be validated!"

"All right, that's enough." Bats squirms free, looking like he want to start dusting stray cooties off his cape. He leaves the cave and leads the way to the hangar, opening the door and setting one foot inside the Batmobile. "Ready?"

"Ready doesn't even _begin_ to cover it." Wally laughs, pulling his mask back on and getting into a hundred-meter-dash pose. “Race ya!"

Bats gives him this look like he's totally grossed out by Wally's childish behavior. He keeps that expression as he hops in the Batmobile, revs the engine, and then opens the hangar door. "You're on."

 

*

 

“Okay, bud.” Wally exhales, easing down by the bed and reaching for Junior’s book. “I know you’re real invested in—“ He wrinkles his nose as he reads the title. “—‘The Man Who Lived Life Unheard: The Story of Vincent Van Gogh’, but it’s lights out.”

Junior glares at him, and it hits Wally just how much the kid looks like his dad. It’s pretty crazy, since Bats didn’t even contribute anything in the genetics department. “I’m not tiwed.”

“Y’know,” Wally says, pulling the covers up higher, “I heard from a reliable source that _Flash_ always gets a good night’s sleep. You don’t wanna be like Batman! That guy’s an insomniac.”

“Uh-uh!” Junior sits up straighter, finally putting his book down. “Batman’s coow! I don’t wike Fwash.”

Wally gasps, offended. “Wait, _seriously?_ Why not?”

Junior crosses his arms and shakes his head. He kinda reminds Wally of a principle about to give some poor kid detention. “He tawks too much. He’s annoying.”

“Hey!” Wally bristles, grabbing the book off Junior’s lap and sticking it up on the shelf where he can’t reach it. “What’s wrong with you? Kids _love_ m—I mean, _The Flash.”_ Bats says they should keep the secret identity thing up until the kid’s old enough to understand why it’s important. Wally keeps saying Junior’s _already_ like a tiny adult, but maybe Bats doesn’t think a person’s grown up until all they ever do is scowl.

Bats starts chuckling from the doorway, and Wally jumps about a foot in the air. “He has good taste.”

Wally groans and slumps against the mattress, leaving his head where it is until Junior tries to shove it away with his knee. “Do you just hate the sound of your own footsteps, or were you _trying_ to give me a heart attack?”

“Sorry.” Bats walks over to him, crouching by the bed and tucking Junior in a little more snugly. Because Wally’s tuck-in wasn’t good enough, apparently. “Your mother’s right—you need your sleep.”

“But dad…” Junior wiggles tiredly, but gives in and goes still when Bats puts his hand against the kid’s cheek. The fact that Bats touches him so gently, especially cuz his hand’s almost as big as the kid’s head, really makes Wally’s heart melt. “I godda finish weading, and I was gonna buiwd a scawe modew, and… “ He blinks slowly and starts slumping, still mumbling. “An’… I godda… “ He yawns so big, it’s like his whole thought process stops so he can do it. After that, he just curls up,whispering a super quiet, “I godda… find my…” And that’s where he stops, too beat to keep talking.

Wally pushes Bats aside, laughing at the scandalized look the big guy gives him, then bends and plants a tiny kiss on top of Junior’s head. “Night, kiddo.”  He turns off the light, and Bats tiptoes with him out of the room, slowly closing the door behind them. Sighing, he leans against the door, relaxing for a second before muttering, “It’s _so_ not fair. Why do you get to be his favorite?”

Bats smirks. “Because Batman is _cool.”_

“You’re definitely not _cool_ ,” Wally insists. “But I like you.”

“Even if I’m a crazed loner?” Bats raises an eyebrow.

“Pretty sure I can’t call you that if you’re not alone.” Wally wraps his arms around the big guy’s waist, grinning.

“Lucky me,” Bats says, and the funny part is, that was probably supposed to be sarcastic.

Sure doesn’t sound that way, though.


End file.
